


Stage 4- Depression

by dancepants_amy



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancepants_amy/pseuds/dancepants_amy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alison is mourning the death of Beth.<br/>I'm literally cringing at this I'm sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage 4- Depression

I stood for what seemed like hours, not quite believing what I was seeing. I stared... and stared... and stared. I stared until my tired eyes hurt, stared until they started to water, my rigid posture slowly crumbling as I came to the realization that Beth Childs was… dead. My Beth was dead.

I fall to the ground and curl into a ball, throwing Donnie's stupid wedding ring to the ground. He wasn't my Beth.

The room spun as I drunk from a liquor bottle that had somehow snuck into my hand. “Beth” I whisper, my voice catching. I repeat the same word over and over again as I look around at the seemingly random yet sentimental objects as memories come to mind, my voice slowly getting louder and louder until eventually I’m shouting.

The bookshelf Beth and I made, its crooked shelves lining the wall of our wooden cottage. The small, fluffy bear with splashes of paint on it that was holding a heart with the words "I wuv u" that Beth gave me. We could never get the paint out. I cuddle it, my eyes filling with tears as I look at the "painting" that Beth and I made. A painting that had less paint on it than on ourselves at the time. Beth loved that thing.

I take a drink from the liquor, trying to drink myself into a stupor and realize that I was absentmindedly flipping through an old photo album of Beth and I that had made its way into my hand. I let out a sob and fling the photo album away.

I start to shake as sobs racked my chest, sobbing as though my life depended on it. Snot begins to dribble down my face, running down my clothing, damp from my salty tears. At that moment, that was the very definition of ugly crying.

My arm, now empty of the album, seems to have a mind of its own as it grabs the nearest thing. Beth's robe. Her favourite robe.  
Clutching it, I bury my head in it, inhaling deeply. It smelt like tiger lilies and forget-me-nots and…it smelt like _Beth._  
.  
.  
.  
I wake up several hours later in a warm cocoon of blankets. I blink rapidly, the bright sunlight filling my eyes. Eyelids drooping, I try to remember the last few hours, and find that I had no recollection of getting there.

My body shoots up suddenly and vomit rises in my throat. My head is pounding. It feels like it’s banging against the window of a moving bus. It’s an earthquake. I rush to the bathroom, chunks spewing out of my mouth as I run.

I hear a creak. My mind registers another presence in the room. I am afraid. I slowly turn my head cautiously, my face frozen in fear, eyes widening as I take in the figure before me. "Beth" I whisper hoarsely. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry


End file.
